


A Tale of Two Captains

by HowlingSentinel



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, The Avengers (2012), Torchwood
Genre: 1940s meeting, First Kiss, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-17 18:46:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/870802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HowlingSentinel/pseuds/HowlingSentinel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically this is just the drabble of the meeting of  the most famous Captains in Britain and America. There *may* be another chapter dealing with their dating on the sly during the war, Cap's "death", and then re-meeting Jack. So the warnings apply</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Tale of Two Captains

Steven was out of his depth here. Bucky had dragged him to this shindig in London, and he had no idea what it was he was getting into. There were officers everywhere, girls upon girls upon girls, the band was hot, booze was flowing and he had absolutely no desire to be here. 

He’d been pretty clear to Buck back when the unit formed up, that he had no interest in starting up with a woman. It was a war after all, was his reasoning – to Bucky at least.  Steve wasn’t sure that his best friend actually believed him. He’d never been slick with the ladies like Jim was when they were teens, hadn’t wanted to be.  Maybe he’d made that a bit too obvious to his friend. 

Sighing, the Captain tousles his honey blonde locks before straightening it all out again. This was not his scene. Women weren’t his scene; they were beautiful, sure, but they didn’t light his blood up. Not like, say, that brunet bombshell over on the dance floor with a cute little slip of skirt.  He had a megawatt smile, and kept looking over at Steve’s corner. 

“Must be because I’m a Yank.” Steve mutters, looking at his drink – bourbon, hard to come by with all the rationing, expensive as hell, but worth it in the long run. He sips at it some more, not paying any attention to the movement around him.  It was a bunch of military guys and their girls, what did he really have to worry about?

“Hello Soldier.” The deep tone of voice breaks the blond from his melancholy thoughts.  Looking up he meets bright, sparkling blue eyes and that megawatt smile.

“Hello. Uh, great dance, huh?” It’s lame the moment it comes out of his mouth. A failed desperate attempt at small talk on the Captain’s part. Steve can feel his cheeks heat up almost instantly. The other man simple laughs, ducking his head a bit. 

“It’s all right, as dances go. I’ve been to some real parties though. Captain Jack Harkness of Torchwood, and you are?” His holds out his hand, and Steve realizes while taking it to shake that this man is American, or at least sounds it.

“Steve Rogers – “

“Howling Commando’s unit commander right? Damn I’d do anything to be assigned with your boys. You guys know how to do your jobs.” 

“Oh, thanks, I mean. It’s not as glamorous as the reels make it seem.”

“War isn’t glamorous, but somehow the media can always make it a love story.” 

The words make Steve relax, finally someone who really gets it. Many soldiers did, but there were always some, especially when they started to talk to him, who forgot war wasn’t a game. How – he wasn’t sure, but it happened from time to time.

“Let me buy you another drink, Rogers.”

“Thanks but I can’t,” He starts with a slight grimace; he had duty tomorrow and wouldn’t chance his super metabolism failing him. As if it ever would. 

“Right, end of leave, huh? Back to the grindstone.”

“Got to, we’re almost through with those Hydra bases. Almost to the end game, can’t slack off now. You guys are liberating those camps aren’t you?” 

This time it is Jack who grimaces, and Steve notes that he’d rather not see such a look on his face. “Yeah, we are. It gets harder to face those poor sons of bitches every camp we find. How could we not get there sooner, save more? You got no idea the horror of those camps, Rogers.  Boxes and boxes of wedding bands, shoes, ratty clothing. Those poor souls are barely people anymore when we find them.  They look like walking skeletons… There are horrors in those camps, Rogers.” It sounds like the first time Jack has spoken about this in a decidedly non-command setting. That’s something Steve can’t ignore. Won’t ignore – it’s not his nature to leave a person in need hanging. Jack? He’s clearly in need right now. Partially his own fault for bringing it up.

“Let’s get outta here. I make shit coffee, but it’s better to talk there.” 

“Sure… I’m willing to bet your coffee isn’t shit. You have not been subjected to the mess around here have you?”

It makes Steve chuckle, he knew of the horror stories from the mess hall. Apparently the Sargent there was western, loved her chicory sludge, rather than a smooth black gold.  He claps a hand on Jack’s shoulder and shakes his head. “O.k. it isn’t that bad. Not great either, though. C’mon Captain."

Leading the brunette out of the Dance Hall it is a pleasant, cool walk back to base. It’s not smart – walking, not with the air raids, but Steve was willing to risk it, and Jack apparently didn’t care. He didn’t say a word against it, and lost the haunted look half way back.

The Howling Commando bunker and leave barracks was a sparsely decorated bay of bunks, posts, footlockers and random other things they’d rustled up to make life worth living. There was a percolator, a couple gas powered heating plates and cans stacked in a corner. There was a radio, a dartboard and a duty roster, too. Everyone had a turn at everything. Jack barely glances at it all, it looked much like all the bunkers did.  Though, the equipment wasn’t lying around. He should get on his guys about that…

“So, Harkness, what made you sign up?” It was as good a thing to talk about as anything in Steve’s book. He gives an encouraging smile while getting one of the heaters up and running, busying his hands making coffee.

“Volunteered the moment the radios reported about the Harbor attack. You know what they say for King and Country? It’s about protecting my home.”

Steve’s estimation of the other rose a bit. He wasn’t out to kill “Dirty Nazis” or the “Damned slant eyes” – that was good. There were too many prejudiced people behind guns as it was.  That sort of attitude lead to war crimes, led to cover ups and scandals later. Made one less thing to worry about when socializing with the handsome Captain, which come to think of it, he needed to get a lid on those thoughts. Steve feels a blush rising up on his cheeks. Being sly was one thing – letting people know about it was dangerous. He’d lose his commission, tarnish his stripes…

“There we go, coffee’s on.” He stands and turns, grin on his face though it falters when he notes Jack is almost within half a foot of him. “…Harkness?” He ventures quietly, unsure of what is going on with the other man. He’s got an intense look on his face, searching, and whatever Harkness is looking for he must find it, because the intense look falls. 

Steve swallows, eyes tracking the movements of Harkness’ face, his hands, the way he closes the distance between them. Rogers could stop him. Could clock him and knock him cold.  But he doesn’t. He lets Harkness crowd into his space. Bright blue eyes watching pale nervous ones. There is a whisper of space between the two officers. Steve is frozen and Harkness smiles lopsidedly.

“Say I’m wrong. We’ll go buddy buddy and never talk about it. I’ll never –“

“You’re right.”

The soft declaration is breathed in by Harkness and then there isn’t any space left between them.  Lips meet and it is the strangest but best sensation Rogers has ever felt. He’s never kissed a man before. Been too afraid, too cautious to try anything.  Now, though, now, with Harkness… The kiss is a fumbling mess that makes them both laugh. Coffee forgotten, the two simply figure out how they fit together. There isn’t anything more than kissing. Jack isn’t stupid, this time is hard enough as it is, and their jobs are hard enough without attempting a relationship with Steve. Even one night…

“When will your next leave?” 

So much for hard enough…

 


End file.
